


Moonwyte

by domesticheart



Category: Homestuck, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Alternate Universe - LOTR, Non-graphic death, Some disturbing descriptions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-26
Updated: 2015-06-26
Packaged: 2018-04-06 06:55:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 720
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4212213
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/domesticheart/pseuds/domesticheart
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rose Lalonde takes an ill-fated walk in a dark wood.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Moonwyte

**Author's Note:**

> Basically, Rose is an elf and the similarities with LOTR mostly end there. Other than Mordor stuff.

The air is cool and tinged with sly pockets of vaporous water, having been laboriously evaporated in the earlier hours of the day. Leaves twitch in relief above the forest floor, tired of dew settling upon their leaves and weighing them down towards the ground below. The trees, like pillars bolstering up a large temple, cast massive shadows across the scattered vegetation below.

Rose brushes aside a slightly thorny shrub to make her way into the clearing, listening carefully for any change in the choral birdsong. She has heard of a darkness rising towards the southern sky, and is wary of it. A strand of pale blond hair falls into her face and she takes it in between her fingers to shove it out from her eyes, feeling the frayed ends tickle over her pointed ears.

She peers up between the tree canopy, face drawn into a pensive look, and then takes several light steps out into the wavering sunlight. Soon, night will fall and she will return to the warm fires and joyful banter of her people. The sky has turned a swiftly darkening purple, dappled with speckles of color that look like a voluminous field of red poppies, and shadows wind their way through the tangles of branches and twigs that lay below as well as hang overhead.

Having heard no signs of immediate danger in close distance, the elf reaches up to grab an overhanging branch, pulling herself up into the lower bows of a sorrowful birch tree. Her slippers, made of dyed petals and leaves, slide across smooth wood before catching on the rough bark, and there is a brief helpless sensation of falling before she finds herself huddled at the center of a crowd of waxy leaves.

Taking a soft breath to steady herself, she launches herself up higher into the tree, hands wrapping assuredly around pinched bark that is crawling with evergreen vines and smatterings of frilled moss. The sweet smell of blooming blossoms wafts over her and dances through her hair on the breeze, the nearby spice trees tingling along her bare arms. A silver dagger swings at her hip as she tugs herself up into the upper branches, mouth spreading into an easy smile and hair rising and falling as she ascends.

Her lavender eyes peer around at the surrounding forest, tweeting brown birds scattering when she expertly darts past, and she can see and feel time shift from daylight to night. Then, Rose breaks through above the treetops, chest rising excitedly and fresh, clean air washing over her face and filling her lungs. All around her are the tops of hundreds of trees, an endless, green and brown sea laced with autumnal oranges and yellows.

The world dims, the sun dipping low behind the mountainous horizon, grey and hidden by vast mists. In the distance, she can hear the steady, burping croaks of frogs stirring in some pond far below; a few moths land about her incandescent hair and shoulders, mixed with golden and blue butterflies, the moon sending light caresses over her silver tunic. Red blooms burst around her, soft and warmed by the earlier sunlight, honeyed and pleasant. She turns her gaze to the southeast, for she can barely resist the temptation any longer, and goes absolutely still. A sharp intake of breath racks through her, but is jilted and in icy disarray when it goes through her lungs and finally to her stilled heart.

Whispered words slither like sludge through her ears, shadowy and dooming and altogether unsettling as they cup the shell of her ear. Her skin prickles up with goosebumps as she stares into the massive, thunderous-looking clouds looming over the far side of the wood, only she knows that these clouds are not of a natural storm. The shadows there stretch, hundreds of thousands of limbs reaching out, snaking through the ground and poisoning the plants and animals with their tendrils and wicked claws. A venomous sting aches through Rose's chest, and she struggles to breathe, gasping against it, feeling as if her veins are filling with brackish water and thorned, wriggling worms.

Without another sound, Rose drops and plummets towards the ground, hardly feeling the sharp twigs and leaves that snag at her body as she falls.

With a sickening, sharp crack, she lands.


End file.
